in which Canada spices it up
by Sushi-taro
Summary: Canada is sexually frustrated. It's been six months since he and Prussia had done it. Needing advice on how to make a move, he goes to France for help. Little did Prussia expect on Sunday morning that there'd be more than pancakes waiting for him. PruCan, one-shot, yaoi, seme!Canada. No likey no ready. Request from SparklyPuffin. Not my cover art.


_(originally posted: 03/24/2013)_

* * *

_Request from SparklyPuffin: a PruCan. I took it a bit further._

_Brief Summary: In which Canada decides it's about time he takes initiative with Prussia. He goes to France for help / ideas. This is the result._

_I do not own Hetalia. If I did, this world would be a lot scarier._

* * *

**in which Canada spices it up**

* * *

It was a normal Friday night and Canada was reflecting on his relationship with Prussia. It was sporadic to say the least. The one constant thing about it was Sunday morning pancakes; sadly, that was the only thing Canada felt he was in it for. To feed Prussia. They hadn't even had sex for months.

Canada was frustrated to say the least. He was fed up with the lack of romance of it all. He was tired of always being brushed off by everyone, including his father, his brother, and now his boyfriend.

Canada thought for a while. Then he decided he needed help. Sexual help. And who better to visit but France?

France was enjoying a cup of coffee with his baguette and morning paper that Saturday when the doorbell rang. He folded his copy of _Le Monde_ and took off his reading glasses. Naturally, he took a good minute to make sure his Paris apartment was spick and span. Only people who truly knew the nation were willing to wait for his home preening. Satisfied, he opened the door.

He didn't expect to see his 'son' at the door.

"Canada?"

"_Bonjour, Papa._"

It was replied with a back-breaking hug. He tried to ignore the fact that France gave him _le bise_, despite the two of them being men. Ah well, the older nation was quite flamboyant. Canada didn't hold it against him. And to this day, France never did anything inappropriate with him despite the nasty rumors going around.

"Oh do come in! It has been a while, _n'est pas_?" asked France as he ushered Canada inside. "You grew your hair out! _Je l'aime_! Much better that your short cut. You looked like America when you did that, nothing like _le magnifique moi!_"

Canada's hair was longer now, a lot like France's. The only difference was that France had his tied back in a ponytail. Canada didn't care too much so he shrugged it off.

"But it must have been a long journey here?"

"Not really…"

"_Mais oui!_" France gasped. "_Oh la la_, where are my manners? You must sit, have something to drink. _Thé ou café?"_

"_Café, s'il te plaît."_

"Milk and sugar?"

"Just milk." Canada already had maple syrup in his pocket.

France had him sit down as he bustled around the kitchen. Canada looked around. "New place, eh?"

"_Oui!_ I had it remodeled last year. What do you think?"

"It's nice."

And it was. The apartment was cozy. The walls were beige, the floor hardwood, and rugs were thrown over it. The theme was obviously purple and white – France's early spring collection. All the furniture would probably be traded out for green within a few weeks. White couch, clear coffee table, purple rugs, and purple flowers in white vases, a few accents of green with the throw pillows to help the color transition. Canada knew his old parent all-too-well.

France came out with a tray. "_Désole_, if I knew you were coming I would have prepared something more. All I have is _tartine_. I hope you're okay with just that."

"That's fine." Come to think of it, did he even have anything to eat that day?

Nodding, France set the food in front of his former territory and sat down next to him. He casually crossed his legs and began to sip his café again. "It is good to see you, but what brings you here, Canada? Surely it's not just to catch up?"

"I need you to teach me how to top."

And France spewed his drink in a most undignified manner.

Now imagine for a second that you were France in this situation. All your life you tried to unconsciously teach your son all sorts of sex skills that he was either too shy, too horrified, or too oblivious to partake in. Things like how to eat bananas and popsicles, things like having him "accidentally" walk in while you were watching porn, things like licking melting ice cream from off the cone.

And now here he was, demanding advice.

"_Mon Dieu_," he murmured before meeting Canada's determined eyes. "Where did this come from?"

The younger nation blushed. At least he hadn't lost is shame; in that sense, he was very innocent in France's mind.

"Um…well, you see…_je suis frustré sexuellement!_"

Sexual frustration. That was something France was used to. He nodded slowly.

"Continue."

Canada sighed. His face was a shade of beet red and slowly darkening. "It's Prussia. He's been coming over every weekend for pancakes, and I like his company. Sometimes we…you know…do it, but not so much lately. I just want his attention again, I guess. And I've never topped, so…"

"You want to impress him a bit, _non_?"

"I guess."

France took a long sip of coffee and thought things through. Granted, Prussia was his best friend so he knew all of the man's kinks. But there was always the issue of whether or not Canada could pull off the act. So he'd have to work with Canada's strengths. Which, sexually speaking, weren't many. Perhaps he could use another strength. But what was Canada good at aside from being ignorant and making pancakes?

Wait…

And then France felt a sly smile coming onto his face.

"_J'ai une idée…"_

**ヘ****.****タ****.****リ****.****ア**

Prussia was feeling awesome today! In fact, he always felt awesome, but today was a particularly awesome day to exist. It was Sunday. Sunday meant the day off. And the day off meant pancakes at Birdie's house! And his pancakes were awesome! In a most Prussia-like manner, of course!

This Sunday was just like any other. Prussia threw open the door awesomely and strode to the kitchen as he always did, already smelling the delicious aroma of pancakes. And nothing compared to his Birdie's pancakes. Except maybe wurst and beer.

"Birdie! The awesome me has arrived…"

And then Prussia stopped. And stared. He blinked a few times to be sure it wasn't an illusion. Which it wasn't.

Before him was Canada. His back was turned to him. And all he was wearing was an apron. And not just any apron. A little pink apron. Where the hell did he get an apron like that?

And that was all he was wearing. One little pink apron.

"Canada? What in the name of _meine fünf Metern_ are you wearing?"

Prussia was trying to keep his cool, but red was coloring his alabaster skin and he could feel a nosebleed coming on. Things were extremely sexual for such an awesome morning.

Canada, meanwhile, was trying not to die of shame. When France brought up wearing an apron he didn't think it would go to this extent. It hardly covered anything. Still, he figured that was the point. And he could only use it the way it was meant for.

_Prusse knows you for your innocence, _he could practically hear France saying._ Use it as a weapon. Play dumb. Make him excited and act like nothing is going on._

Following France's advice, Canada feigned confusion.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Prussia." He stretched leisurely. "I'm just making pancakes as always. Unless you don't want pancakes today."

"_Nein_, I do," he said carefully.

The self-proclaimed awesome one sat down at the table where he had a clear view of the younger's bare ass. It swung slightly as the nation busied himself with making pancakes. Thought Prussia couldn't see from his angle, Canada's face was as bright as a flame and his hands shook uncontrollably. It was due to this that he managed to drop the ladle he used for scooping batter.

Canada cursed his clumsiness inwardly. He was about to crouch down and pick it up when something else France told him came to mind. _Use everything in your surrounding to your advantage. Just about anything can enhance your sexiness._

"How clumsy of me, eh?" he said with a nervous chuckle. Then Canada bent over veeeeery slowly, deliberately picking up the ladle.

Prussia knew he was dead. There was no way this was the Canada he knew. He needed to distract himself from the fact that there was a nosebleed coming on. And that he was ridiculously turned-on from the whole scene before him.

"Mind if I start before you?" he asked as he got up and reached for a pancake.

And Canada smacked his hand away with the spatula in his hand.

Wait. That _wasn't_ a spatula. The spatula was placed by the stove. Meaning…

Prussia's eyes widened as he, if possible, paled considerably. Then the next unanswered question came to Prussia: when the fuck did Canada get a riding crop?

"Ah ah," tutted the other. "Not yet. I haven't finished all of them."

And he was telling the truth; there was still a good amount of batter in the bottom of the bowl.

"Fuck the batter," Prussia said. "I wanna know what you're doing, Birdie."

The riding crop was tapped lightly against his lips. "Shh, let me finish the pancakes."

Canada held the leather tip on Prussia's darkening cheek as he finished pouring the batter into the hot pan. He transferred the crop to his left hand so he could finish flipping the pancake with a spatula in his right. Satisfied, the golden-brown flapjack was added to the stack.

The finishing touch was the maple syrup. Canada poured a generous amount onto it before sipping a bit as well. Licking his now sticky lips, he smiled wickedly at Prussia.

"You normally don't do this stuff, so…who are you and what have you done with the real Canada?"

Canada stared. Then he smiled. And then he was giggling uncontrollably. "Really? Prussia, are you serious? You're serious, eh?"

As he continued to laugh, Prussia backed away. "Okay, you must be on some serious drugs or something."

Canada was about to respond when he remembered what France had said.

_Do what he does to you. Kiss him, mark him. Claim him as your. Own him._

So Canada bit down on the former nation's smooth skin and sucked, leaving a very notable hickey on his exposed neck. Prussia put a hand on it in shock. "Birdie, did you just…?"

Canada kissed him instead. Prussia noted it was still sticky and sweet, just like the maple syrup. He licked away the flavor, savoring the feel of Canada's tongue against his. As they pulled away, he pushed Prussia onto the table and ripped his apron off and tugging at Prussia's shirt. The albino pulled it over his head only to have the younger nip at the skin that appeared with it. His kisses trailed down from Prussia's collarbone all the way to the button of his jeans.

Canada looked up slyly before popping open the button and pulling down the zipper with his teeth. He stood up and palmed the growing tent in Prussia's boxers lightly, eliciting a moan from him. Then Canada pulled down the boxers in one swift move. Next they and the pants were shoved off his legs – socks went too.

Canada picked up the riding crop and tapped it lightly against Prussia's legs, forcing them apart. He grinned at the view.

"Well well, look what we have here. Someone's vital regions are active, eh?"

Canada ran the crop along the underside of the cock. Prussia bit his lip to prevent any sounds from escaping. The blond began to lazily run the leather over the leaking tip, rubbing it roughly and causing Prussia to whimper slightly.

"Do you like that?" Canada asked in the most seductive tone possible.

_Gott_, Canada was taking initiative! That should've terrified him. So why was he enjoying it?

Meanwhile, the younger deemed foreplay as over. In other words, he didn't think he could stay in character any longer. He tapped the crop teasingly over Prussia's slit one last time before tossing it onto the floor.

Canada didn't have lube, but he did have cooking supplies. And thankfully there was a bottle of canola oil conveniently sitting on the countertop. He'd used it to grease the pan earlier; who knew he'd need it again for such a different purpose.

Pouring a little into his palm, Canada rubbed a considerable amount on three fingers. Then he paused for a moment. This was it. He didn't think he'd been able to get anywhere near here. Canada hesitated. He could almost imagine France, encouraging him.

So without further ado, Canada wormed one finger into Prussia's puckered hole. It slid in pretty easily as he began to move. Prussia shifted slightly. It felt weird, but it didn't hurt. More uncomfortable than anything.

Before long, a second digit was added. Canada began to scissor. It was weird for him too. The movements were things he'd experienced, but never tried. He could practically feel the muscles he never used in his fingers tiring. But based on the face Prussia was making he wasn't doing half bad.

Prussia flinched at the third. This was a stretch for him. But Canada was slow; he made sure he didn't hurt the other nation. He moved deliberately, reaching a little deeper each time until he accidently hit an area that caused Prussia to tighten considerably around his fingers.

_You should be able to feel his prostate when you get to it. I'm sure you know what it feels like when he hits that spot with you. Now you'll have to return the favor, non? _

He felt it all right. There was a little nub, a sensitive bundle of nerves that his fingers just rubbed against. But Prussia let out (in his mind) an unawesome cry and jerked into the digits.

"There! Shit!"

Canada complied by pressing against the spot. He watched with fascination as the older nation keened and his arched his back while his head lolled back in pleasure. Damn, did he look like that during sex? If so, that was a definite turn-on.

He began to pump the three fingers in and out vigorously, causing Prussia to gasp and yell in pleasure. His pale skin was becoming flushed and gleaming in sweat. Canada's aim was dead-on. The friction was almost unbearable in an awesome way. He could feel he would come…so close…

And then the delicious friction went away.

Prussia's eyes opened in shock as the fingers removed themselves. "What?"

"Let me have some fun too," Canada replied simply. This time, his hand went to the bottle of maple syrup. And then to his cock. No…

Prussia couldn't help but gasp at how fucking kinky the whole thing was. Holy pancakes and wurst! Did that even make sufficient lube? Wasn't maple syrup too sticky for that?

"Birdie?" he whispered as Canada lined himself up. Prussia was about to say more, but then Canada forced his head in him.

_Enter slowly. It hurts at first no matter how well-prepared you are. Always make sure your partner's okay and can take what's happening. After all, Prusse still has a virginal ass!_

The feeling was something very different for both of them, to say the least.

If it wasn't for the fact that Canada was such a patient person, he would've buried his length into Prussia. Instead, he groaned as the muscles of the other's opening clenched around him.

"A-ah…so hot!" he panted.

Prussia, meanwhile, had a scream lodged in his throat. He was trying to figure out why anyone could enjoy bottoming. He had a list of cons growing that was only getting worse in his mind: it hurt, it was unawesome, it was shameful, it was unawesome, and it made him feel like a sex slave. Did he mention it was unawesome?

Despite it all, Prussia knew that deep down he was letting his sweet not-so-little-inside-him Birdie do this to him. Sure, Canada was stronger than he appeared – playing hockey had given him lean muscles and hardcore aim – but Prussia was stronger. He could've easily pushed the slighter nation off from him and fucked him against the table right then and there. Yet something was stopping him. Prussia wasn't sure exactly what (which was totally unawesome) but he let it slide.

"Shit," he groaned.

Canada stopped, remembering France's words. "Are you okay? We can stop if you want."

Prussia's eyes met his Birdie's. They were shining with genuine concern. How could he say no to such a look? So he didn't. Prussia grinned. "I'm fine. Keep going, but not too fast."

Canada nodded and moved slightly. Prussia clenched his teeth together and hissed a bit, but the pain was beginning to subside. The former nation willed himself to relax as Canada continued to enter him.

"I'm in."

Really? Prussia was shocked. He looked down; sure enough, Canada was fully sheathed. He moved experimentally, then nodded. "Move."

He didn't need to say it twice. Canada slowly pulled out before slamming into Prussia. The older gasped. Shit, it was rough. Was that what if felt like for Canada their first time? Granted, they had real lube and a bed rather than syrup and a wooden table.

He stopped thinking as Canada slammed into him again. The table creaked, but held.

"Ah, it hurts! _Verdammit_!"

"I'm sorry," Canada murmured, kissing Prussia's neck gently. "I promise it'll feel good, eh?"

Prussia didn't exactly believe him. Canada continued to move in and out at different angles. Then Prussia tightened around him and let out a strangled cry.

"Oh!"

_Found it_, Canada thought. Then he picked up the pace, forcing one of Prussia's legs over his shoulder for a better angle. Based on the way Prussia was moaning and gripping the table it was working. Canada picked up the pace, causing more pleasured sounds from the man under him.

Now the maple syrup was warm and runny, no doubt from the intense friction between them. The only sounds were a combination of skin slapping, moaning, a few stray cries, and random words of encouragement. Neither party could make so much as a sentence, their thoughts gone as their pleasure increased.

_Don't forget about your partner. Make sure he's enjoying it fully. He's got a penis too, and it certainly doesn't deserve to be neglected._

Canada took a firm grip of Prussia's throbbing length, pumping it in rhythm with his own movements. The moans he got from the albino encouraged him.

Prussia was trying – and failing – to not sound like a needy whore. He couldn't help it. Every thrust made him lose control of his voice, every breath came out as a pant, every pant turned into a moan, and the vicious cycle continued.

When did it get so hot?

Prussia could feel his release, so close he could practically taste it. As the heat began to pool into his gut he tried to form some coherent words.

"Birdie…hah, I-I-I'm gonna…come…so close!"

"M-me too," Canada groaned. _"Mon Dieu, Prusse!"_

"BIRDIE!"

Prussia came with a shout, covering his and Canada's chests with his sticky white release. His body clenched as he rode out his orgasm, voice spent from earlier.

Canada came within seconds after him, groaning as his hot seed spurted and covered Prussia's inner walls. After a few moments or so to catch his breath, Canada pulled his now-flaccid member out of his partner.

As Canada slid out of him, Prussia began to reflect on what had happened. Birdie had topped him. His boyfriend! How did that even work? And not only that, but the foreplay and the skill! When did he learn all this?

Still panting, Prussia asked, "Where in the world did you figure that out?"

The Canada who answered was the usual one: shy, red-faced, and unable to lie. "Um…I just wanted to, you know, do it with you again. And we weren't exactly super active at the moment or anything, eh? So I went to France for help and, well…"

So it was that pervert. How was he not surprised? Of course his best friend would know all of his apron and leather kinks and the likes. Prussia stared at Canada.

"Damn Birdie, where you that desperate?"

"Curious, I think." The blond nation looked at his feet sheepishly.

"Well, it was…good."

"Really?"

"Yeah," said Prussia breathlessly, surprised to find he actually meant it. He cleared his throat. "Didn't know you had it in ya, Birdie."

Canada blushed a bit. He looked around the room and down at their torsos, sighing. "We got the kitchen all dirty. Not to mention ourselves…"

"Who cares? We did it a most awesome fashion! Besides…" Prussia grinned and winked, "it was fun. Maybe there'll be time for round two later?"

And as Canada tried not to die of shame, Prussia cleaned himself up and began to eat a pancake drizzled with maple syrup. This was most definitely an AWESOME Sunday.

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_Apologies for the repetitious nature of the words "awesome" and "unawesome." I understand it was unawesome of me to write unawesome so many times in such an awesome fic in such an unawesome way. _

;)

_I am taking requests; I've got a RusLat, a LietPol, and a Giripan on their way in the next few weeks or so if I've got time, but I'll always be open to new ideas. Just leave a review or shoot a PM to me if there's a pairing and/or a plot you'd like to see in the near-ish future._

_Thanks for reading!_

_-Sushi_


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